Writer-Director Michael Haneke Puts Love to a Most Brutal Test

Amour, the brave new film from
Michael Haneke, is a story that speaks to the notion and philosophies
espoused by Dr. Cornel West, in particular, his consideration of what it
means to be human. For West, being human deals with living and
struggling in the face of inevitable death, fighting daily despite
having an awareness of the approaching end. In recent years, he has
refined this notion to the point where humanity is about dying in order
to live more fully.

I would argue that Haneke sees love as a
driving force in this process or he wants audiences to grapple with the
possibility. He has tested audiences before. The White Ribbon forced us to stare into the environment that would give rise to the Holocaust. Funny Games,
his 2007 remake of his own 1997 film, took us inside the horror of home
invasion and the theatrics of onscreen horror presentations. Caché (Hidden)
toyed with a family and our expectations again, in terms of domestic
invasions that tap into the psychological makings of our character.

What does it mean to say that with Amour,
Haneke may have finally created the most devastating and disturbingly
intimate portrait of his career? In the past, there has been an almost
clinical chill, a hard frost at the edge of the frames that rendered his
characters as little more than austere artifacts in stark relief
waiting for us, the viewer, to heat up in the face of infuriating
situations, to feel our blood rise to the boiling point in order to
transfer that heat to the characters. But here, intriguingly, Haneke
turns the tables on us.

This time, Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant) and
Anne (the brave and lovely Oscar-nominated Emmanuelle Riva), a couple
that must contend with Anne’s mounting health issues and the strain of
debilitating decline, provide their own warmth, a rich, radiating glow
that extends far beyond the frame. The sentiment is not in danger of
sparking out, at least not initially. Georges and Anne, retired music
teachers, are well past their prime in that respect. They are in their
80s, comfortable companions in a long journey and their love remains
strong and vibrant for what it is.

Georges sees it as his duty to care for
Anne — that was part of their marriage vows, a stipulation they were
fully cognizant of at the time, but Anne, following her initial stroke
and the failed attempt to surgically repair the damage, recognizes the
changing dynamic and expresses her desire to renegotiate the terms. She
doesn’t want to have this decline drag on, more for her own sake than
her husband’s.

There is a moment though when it appears
that Haneke is up to his sly old tricks. Georges, while talking to his
daughter Eva (Isabelle Huppert), who has arrived at her parents home and
is alarmed by her father’s secretive and hostile response to her
presence, attempts to assuage her concerns about the situation. He
explains how things have been difficult, the downward slide that Anne
has experienced during the everyday routine, and Georges tells Eva that
it is not worth watching, but the audience knows better. We, in fact,
have witnessed what has gone on between Georges and Anne, we have seen
the strain that her condition has put on their love and their lives. It
is a bit of a tease, but the shock is in the emotional hold it has on
us. Our sympathies are firmly aligned and the moment is not a
distraction at all.

Amour recalls the advice Roger Ebert mentions in Life Itself: A Memoir.
He says that as a critic, we should watch films and then determine what
happened to us during the experience and write about it. Great advice
for critics, but even better for audiences, especially when approaching a
film that has every intention of making you feel something. We speak
casually of moments when we could be flies on the wall, taking in an
exchange from some distance or remove. Amour delivers that
sensation. The intimacy is palpable. Georges and Anne are achingly real,
more than mere strangers we might encounter in passing or even our
neighbors in the apartment/house next door. For those of us of a certain
age, Georges and Anne are family members; maybe even our own parents
who don’t want to end up in the care of hospice professionals.

Amour sets up a brutal choice and
allows us to watch this couple’s intimate struggle to achieve personal
resolution. By taking the debate out of the public arena, Haneke forces
us to come to our own conclusion. (PG-13) Grade: A